
MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


By Albert Bigelow 1 Paines 








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[See page 13] 


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MR. CROW AND MR. RABBIT WENT BACK 
TO THE FENCE JOB 


MR. CROW AND 
THE WHITEWASH 







HOLLOW TREE STOR 



BY 


Albert Bigelow Paine 

12 mo, Cloth. Fully Illustrated 
MR. TURTLE’S FLYING ADVENTURE 
MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 
MR. RABBIT’S WEDDING 
HOW MR. DOG GOT EVEN 
HOW MR. RABBIT LOST HIS TAIL 
MR. RABBIT’S BIG DINNER 
MAKING UP WITH MR. DOG 
MR. ’POSSUM’S GREAT BALLOON TRIP 
WHEN JACK RABBIT WAS A LITTLE BOY 


HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS BOOK 
Illustrated. 8 vo. 

HOLLOW TREE SNOWED-IN BOOK 
Illustrated. 8 vo. 


HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK 


Mr. Crow and the Whitewash 


Copyright, 191S, 1916, 1917, by Harper & Brothers 
Printed in the United States of America 



K-R 


NOV -5 1917 


©CI.A477420 


0 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Mr. Crow and the Whitewash 11 

Mr. ’Coon’s Star Story 35 

Mr. Rabbit’s Star Story 53 

Mr. Crow’s Star Story 69 

A Deep Woods War 83 

Mr. ’Possum’s Sick Spell .103 



MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 





MR. CROW AND THE 
WHITEWASH 


I 


THE OLD BLACK CROW TRIES A STRANGE 
EXPERIMENT 

NE very nice May morning when Mr. 



Crow went over to call on Jack Rabbit, 
he found him whitewashing his back fence, 
and after Mr. Rabbit had showed Mr. Crow 
how fine it looked when it was dry, he took 
him into the kitchen, which he had white- 
washed the day before, and Mr. Crow went 
on about it and said it was the nicest thing 
he ever saw, and if he just knew how, and 
had the things to do it with, he would white- 
wash his own kitchen in the Hollow Tree. 

Then Mr. Jack Rabbit said it was the 
11 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


easiest thing in the world — that all one 
needed was a little quick -lime and some 
water and a brush, and then some practice 
in putting it on so it would look nice and even, 
and not spotty and streaky, as was so liable 
to be the case when one had not learned how. 
Mr. Rabbit said he had borrowed some quick- 
lime early one morning from Mr. Man’s 
lime-kiln, over in the edge of the Big West 
Hills, and that Mr. Crow could get some at 
the same place if he went early enough and 
took a basket to bring it home in. Jack 
Rabbit said that you must put the lime into 
a barrel, or a tub, or something, and then 
pour water on it, which would make it hot 
and smoky, quite suddenly, which he 
supposed was the reason it was called quick- 
lime, but that by and by it would grow cool 
and turn white, when it was called “ slack” 
lime, and then it only needed some more 
water to make the beautiful, clean whitewash 
which Mr. Crow admired so much. As 
for practice, he said, he would let Mr. Crow 
try a little on his back fence. 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

So then Mr. Crow and Jack Rabbit went 
back to the fence job, and Mr. Rabbit 
stirred the whitewash and dipped in the 
brush, and made a few strokes, right and left, 
and then crossed them up and down, and 
then right and left again, to get the material 
on nice and smooth, and stood off to look 
at it until it began to look white and clean, 
because the sun was hot and dried it very 
fast; and pretty soon he let Mr. Crow have 
the brush. Mr. Crow did very well for the 
first time, and kept improving right along, 
and Jack Rabbit sat in the shade, where it 
was cool, and let Mr. Crow go on practising 
and improving, until he had whitewashed 
almost all the fence, and felt so hot and warm 
he was about ready to drop, besides being 
dazzled from looking at the boards that got 
as white as snow, with the hot sun shining on 
them. 

Then all at once Mr. Crow noticed some- 
thing else. He had not been very careful 
about splashing the whitewash and had got 
some of it on different parts of himself, and 
13 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


especially on the wing that he worked with, 
and when he stopped and looked at it, he 
said, “Good gracious !” for wherever the 
whitewash had got on him he was not black 
any more, but snow white. 

And right then Mr. Crow had an idea. 
He put the brush in the pail, and came over 
and stood in front of Jack Rabbit, and said : 

“Why can’t you whitewash me? I’ve 
always thought it would be pleasant to be 
white, for a change. I heard of a white 
crow, once, in our family, and I always 
wondered how he got that way. Of course 
he must have been whitewashed — I can see 
it, now, as plain as anything. I am sure 
you could whitewash me, Mr. Rabbit, with 
all the practice you’ve had, so that none of 
the black would show. Whitewash me for 
Sunday, Mr. Rabbit, and I will go home and 
give Mr. ’Coon and Mr. ’Possum a great 
surprise.” 

Well, Mr. Rabbit was delighted. He 
dearly loved to try experiments, and prepare 
surprises, and to show how well he could do 

14 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


things. He said he believed he had heard of 
people being whitewashed for Sunday, and 
that Mr. Crow, who was so nice and smooth 
outside, would be just the one to be fixed 
up in that way. He said Mr. Crow might 
need more than one coat to make him seem 
perfect, but that he would take time and do 
a good job. Then he said he had a smaller 
brush in the house, for fine work, and would 
get it right away. 

Mr. Crow was already in hot weather 
costume and only had to lay off his vest for 
Jack Rabbit to begin, and pretty soon Mr. 
Rabbit came back with the fine brush and 
went to work. He told Mr. Crow to shut 
his eyes and keep them shut until the stuff 
was dry, as it might smart a little if it ran 
in them, and to stand in the sun, which Mr. 
Crow did. Jack Rabbit began at the top 
and whitewashed clear down to his feet, 
and then told him to turn around slowly, 
so the sun could get on all sides of him, and 
get him dry enough for a second coat. 

So Mr. Crow turned around and around, 

2 15 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

and kept his eyes shut, and got quite dizzy, 
before Mr. Rabbit told him he could open 
his eyes now and see how he liked his 
appearance as far as gone. And Mr. Crow 
looked and said he liked it very much, 
though he was pretty streaky in places. Mr. 
Rabbit said the next coat would surprise 
him, and told him to shut his eyes again, 
which Mr. Crow did, and Jack Rabbit gave 
him another and very heavy coat, from head 
to foot. Then when Mr. Crow had turned 
and turned in the sun to dry himself, he 
looked again and was quite pleased. He was 
almost entirely white, now, and Mr. Rabbit 
said one more coat would fix him. 

So then Mr. Rabbit gave him the last coat 
and laid the whitewash on thicker than ever, 
especially in places, and when Mr. Crow 
could open his eyes he went in and looked 
at himself in Mr. Rabbit’s long glass, and 
said he never thought anything so astonishing 
as that could happen to anybody, and 
declared he must hurry right off home now, 
and that he was going to make up a lot of 
16 





GAVE HIM ANOTHER AND VERY HEAVY COAT 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


whitewash and keep himself looking like 
that all the time, and his kitchen, too, and 
perhaps all the rest of the Hollow Tree, for 
there was certainly nothing in the world so 
wonderful as whitewash. 

Then Mr. Crow thanked Mr. Rabbit and 
hurried off, but pretty soon walked slower? 
for, as he got dryer and dryer, the thick 
whitewash got stiffer and more caky, and 
Mr. Crow cracked a good deal as he walked, 
and he was afraid his nice new color might 
come off if he wasn’t careful. 

Mr. ’Possum and Mr. ’Coon were taking 
a nap in the sun when Mr. Crow got back 
to the Hollow Tree, and didn’t hear him 
until he was standing right in front of them. 
Then they both woke up at once and took 
one look at the strange, white creature 
standing over them, almost blinding in the 
sun, and each one thought at first he was 
having a very wonderful dream, and couldn’t 
speak for enjoying it. But when Mr. Crow 
started to come closer they were not so sure 
about the dream, and both gave a big jump 
18 



WOKE UP AND TOOK ONE LOOK AT THE 
STRANGE, WHITE CREATURE 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


and made for the down-stairs door of the 
Hollow Tree, and got inside and bolted it 
tight. 

That, of course, made Mr. Crow laugh, but 
not loud enough for them to hear him, and 
pretty soon he went to the door and tried 
the latch, and then knocked, and Mr. Tossum 
called out: 

“W-wh-who’s there?” 

“Why, it’s me!” said Mr. Crow. “What 
have you got the door bolted for?” 

And Mr. ’Coon called out, “Oh, Mr. Crow, 
did you see anything out there?” 

“Why, no, ” said Mr. Crow. “What made 
you think so.” 

. And Mr. ’Possum said, “W-we saw some- 
thing very strange out there, Mr. Crow — a 
v-very curious bird!” 

“I guess you were dreaming,” said Mr. 
Crow. “There is no bird out here but me, 
that I know of. Open the door so I can come 
in and get the dinner. ” 

So then Mr. ’Possum and Mr. ’Coon 
pulled back the bolt and opened the door, 
20 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


but when they saw Mr. Crow standing 
there, so white and shining, Mr. ’Possum 
fainted and Mr. ’Coon got behind a barrel 
until they heard Mr. Crow laugh and ask 
them if his new complexion had changed 
him so they didn’t know him. 

Then Mr. ’Possum came to, and Mr. ’Coon 
came out, and Mr. Crow told them all about 
how it happened, and they all went out in 
the sun again, and Mr. ’Coon and Mr. 
’Possum walked around Mr. Crow and 
admired him and talked about his great 
change, and Mr. ’Possum touched him and 
said his complexion seemed pretty solid, 
somewhat like a shell, and Mr. Crow told him 
how he had to move rather carefully in it, 
at first, though very likely it would limber 
up in time. Then he told them how he was 
going to do the kitchen that way, and perhaps 
other things, and they all got excited and 
talked about it, and Mr. ’Possum said that 
probably he would have them give him a 
coat next winter, to match the snow which 
would be handy, nights when he was bor- 
21 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


rowing chickens from Mr. Man, though he 
supposed he would have to be dipped. Then 
they went in to dinner, and Mr. Crow set 
out such things as did not require much 
exercise, and by and by they all talked about 
it a great deal more and decided to have a 
regular cleaning up and whitewashing, like 
Mr. Rabbit’s. Mr. ’Coon said he and Mr. 
’Possum would do the cleaning up if 
Mr. Crow would attend to the whitewashing, 
as he had learned how, and they would 
all begin next day. 


II 

WHAT CAME OF MR. CROWDS GREAT 
EXPERIMENT 

W ELL, Mr. Crow slept sitting up in a 
chair that night, for fear of damaging 
his new complexion, and next morning was 
out very early with a basket, on the way to 
Mr. Man’s lime-kiln in the edge of the Big 
West Hills. 

It had rained a little in the night, and Mr. 
Crow was rather afraid he might get his new 
complexion wet on the bushes, so he stepped 
very carefully and was not really comfortable, 
though proud of his looks. He was gone a 
good while, but Mr. ’Coon and Mr. ’Possum 
were still asleep when he got back, so he 
emptied his lime into an old barrel behind 
23 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


the stove where he intended to mix it by and 
by, and started the breakfast before calling 
them. They didn’t get up right away, 
though, so Mr. Crow sat down and had a 
cup of coffee and a biscuit or two, and then 
called to them that he was going over to 
borrow Mr. Rabbit’s whitewash brush. He 
might be a little while getting back, he said, 
but that they could start their job any time. 

So then he left, and Mr. ’Coon and Mr. 
’Possum hacF their breakfast, and talked 
about what they would do, and decided that 
Mr. ’Coon could set things to rights in the 
house, and Mr. ’Possum could rake the 
leaves. After that they had some more 
coffee and talked some more, and Mr. 
’Possum stretched and said he hadn’t slept 
very well, and didn’t know as he cared so 
much about cleaning up things this morning 
as he had yesterday, but he supposed they 
must be getting at it, as Mr. Crow seemed to 
have his mind set on changing things in 
general since Mr. Rabbit had got him 
started in the direction of whitewash, which 
24 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


improved him, of course, in some ways; 
though it certainly made him less homelike 
and familiar and seemed to affect his 
cooking. 

Then Mr. ’Possum yawned again and went 
down-stairs and got the rake, and went out 
and began to make a few little piles of leaves, 
which were quite wet from the rain, and did 
not rake very easy, and made him tired. 
So pretty soon he called up to Mr. ’Coon, 
who was sweeping and moving furniture, 
and asked him what he should do with the 
leaves, as they were too wet to burn, and if 
he left them there until they were dry the 
wind would blow them all about again. 

Mr. ’Coon looked out the up-stairs window 
and told him he’d better fetch them up and 
put them in something in Mr. Crow’s 
kitchen, so he could have them to light his 
fire with when they got dry. Then pretty 
soon he came down and helped Mr. ’Possum, 
and they carried them up, and saw Mr. 
Crow’s barrel, and threw them in until it 
was quite full, then poked them down and 
25 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


put in some more, and said how glad Mr. 
Crow would be to have them, and that now 
they would go outside and rest a little, until 
they saw him coming. 

So they went out and sat on a log and 
smoked, and were wondering what kept Mr. 
Crow so long, when Mr. ’Possum said he 
smelled something curious, and just then 
Mr. ’Coon happened to look up at the 
window, and said: 

“ Goodness gracious alive, if the Hollow 
Tree isn’t on fire!” 

Then Mr. ’Possum looked up, too, and 
said, “As sure as you’re born, and we shall 
lose everything!” 

And just then they saw Mr. Crow coming, 
on the run, for he had seen it even before 
they had — Mr. Crow being always a great 
hand to see things. 

“Hurry up, and get out our things,” he 
said; and didn’t stop, but ran right to the 
door and up the stairs, with Mr. ’Coon and 
Mr. ’Possum after him, though there was a 
good deal of smelly smoke there, and they 
26 



MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


expected the flames to break out any minute. 
Mr. Crow said the fire seemed to be in the 
kitchen, and commenced to grab the parlor 
furniture and hand it to them, and Mr. 
’Possum called to him to get his best suit 
out of his room, if possible, as he never 
expected to be able to afford another. 
Mr. ’Coon ran through to his room, and 
brought out some pictures he thought a 
good deal of, and came dragging his trunk 
with his free hand, and slipped when he got 
it to the stairs, and rode d-own on it like a 
sled, while everybody worked carrying and 
throwing things, and Mr. Crow forgot all 
about his fine new complexion, which began 
to crack off and scatter until it was all over 
the floor and stairs. Then pretty soon they 
all felt so choky from that queer smelly 
smoke that they went out in the air and 
piled up their things at a safe distance and 
stood, waiting for the flames to break out 
and burn down their big Hollow Tree they 
had lived in so long. 

But for some reason the flames did not 
28 



MR. ’COON RODE DOWN ON IT LIKE A SLED 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


break out, and by and by the smoke seemed 
to get less. Then it really got a good deal 
less, until there wasn’t any to speak of, and 
after a while the Hollow Tree people went to 
the down-stairs door and looked in, and, 
though there was plenty of smell, there was 
no smoke. Mr. ’Possum said it smelt a 
good deal like Mr. Man’s lime-kiln on a wet 
morning. Then Mr. Crow had an idea. 

“Did you put anything in that barrel 
behind the stove?” he said to Mr. ’Possum 
and Mr. ’Coon. 

“Why, yes,” Mr. ’Coon said, “we put in 
the leaves that Mr. ’Possum raked up. 
They were wet, and we put them there to 
dry, so you could have them to cook with.” 

Then Mr. Crow went straight up the stairs 
and back to his kitchen, and there was the 
barrel of leaves, still smoking a little, though 
not much, for the lime was about “slacked.” 
Mr. Crow took hold of the barrel, and Mr. 
’Coon and Mr. ’Possum, too, and they car- 
ried it down-stairs and outside, and when 
they got it far enough away from the tree 
30 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

they emptied it out and kicked the leaves 
over the lime, which was still smoking a 
little and seemed very hot. Then Mr. Crow 
looked down at himself, and said: 

“I don’t care much about whitewash, 
anyway.” 

And Mr. ’Coon and Mr. ’Possum looked 
at him, too, which they had been too busy 
to do before, and Mr. ’Coon said: 

“It doesn’t seem to last very well.” 

And Mr. ’Possum said, “Mr. Crow, you 
have a new complexion every day.” 

For the whitewash had come off of Mr. 
Crow in patches, until he looked like a black- 
and-white crazy quilt. And just then it 
began to rain again, and they all hurried to 
carry in their things; and when they got 
them all in the tree again Mr. ’Coon and 
Mr. ’Possum began to straighten them, but 
Mr. Crow said he thought he would go 
outside a little and enjoy the shower. Then 
pretty soon it poured pitchforks, but still 
Mr. Crow didn’t come in, and when Mr. 
’Coon and Mr. ’Possum looked out of the 

3 31 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


upper window they saw him hopping about 
in it, and waving, and sometimes rolling 
in the leaves, and mopping his face as if he 
liked it better than anything; and by and 
by, when the rain was over and he came in, 
there was no more whitewash, and he was 
the blackest, shiniest Old Black Crow that 
ever was. 

Then Mr. ’Coon said that, after all, there 
was nothing like a natural complexion. 

And Mr. Crow said: “The trouble about 
whitewash is that it’s too hard to keep 
it on.” 

Mr. ’Possum, who was resting in a big 
chair, after his hard morning’s work, opened 
his eyes just long enough to say, “It’s too 
hard to live up to”; and went sound asleep. 


MR. ’COON’S STAR STORY 



MR. ’COON’S STAR STORY 


MR. COON EXPLAINS THE STARS AND HOW 
THEY ARE MADE 

NE very pleasant June night the Hollow 



Tree people and Jack Rabbit walked 
over to the edge of the world and sat down to 
talk and smoke and look at the stars. 

Mr. ’Possum said he always liked to look 
at the stars when he had anything on his 
mind, because they seemed so far away from 
all his troubles, and if he looked at them long 
enough his troubles seemed to get far away, 
too. He said he supposed the stars were 
fully two miles away, some of them, though 
the little ones would have to be closer or one 
would not be able to see them. Very likely 
the moon, being so big, might be farther away 


35 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


than any, and if it was really another world, 
as Mr. Rabbit had once explained to them , 1 
it must be still a good deal bigger than it 
looks, and very far away, indeed, probably 
as much as seven miles, though no one would 
think so to see it coming up full on a clear 
night behind the Blackberry-patch. Mr. 
’Possum said that once, when he was quite 
young, he had tried to get over there to 
catch it, but had not been able to arrive in 
time. 

Then all the Hollow Tree people and Jack 
Rabbit looked up at the sky — at the different 
kinds of stars, and the patterns they made, 
such as the Big Dipper, and the Seven 
Sisters, and at the Milky Way, that seemed 
broader and milkier than usual; and nobody 
said anything, until Mr. ’Coon happened 
to remark: 

“l saw Mr. Man making the stars, once. 
It was very interesting, though dangerous; 
I nearly got hit by one.” 

1 “ On the Edge of the World,” in The Hollow Tree and Deep 
Woods Book. 


36 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


Then Mr. Rabbit and the others were very 
much interested, and Mr. Rabbit said: 

“What a curious idea! How is it you 
never told us about that before?” 

“Well,” said Mr. ’Coon, “it was a good 
while ago, and the only people I told about it 
then didn’t believe it. I haven’t thought of 
it for a long time, and, besides, I supposed 
all smart people knew about Mr. Man having 
that job, and the careless way he works 
at it.” 

“I wish you would tell us,” said Mr, 
Rabbit, “if you can remember clearly just 
what you think happened on the night you 
speak of.” 

“I don’t think anything about it,” said 
Mr. ’Coon. “It was a good while ago, but 
I remember exactly how it was as well as if 
it were only last week. I’m not likely ever 
to forget it. It was this way: 

“We needed a chicken pretty badly in our 
family, and my big brother, who generally 
went after them, said it was about time I was 
learning to do something, and sent me over 
37 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


to Mr. Man’s to get it. I was very young, 
and nobody had ever told me the best way 
to go about borrowing a chicken from Mr. 
Man. Chickens used to roost in trees near 
Mr. Man’s house in those days, and I knew 
my folks generally waited until he had gone 
to bed, which I supposed was only because 
they didn’t like to disturb him. It is too 
bad that grown people do not explain things 
carefully to young folks — it would save many 
accidents. 

‘■‘Well, I liked the idea of being sent for a 
chicken. It made me feel grown up. I 
didn’t care to be out late, though, so I started 
quite early — about sunset — and walked along 
slowly, enjoying the evening, for it was 
summer-time, early in July — the Fourth — a 
date I am sure I shall never forget. 

“It was a good ways from our place to 
Mr. Man’s house, and it was about eight 
o’clock when I got there. Mr. Man and his 
folks had not gone to bed yet, but were out 
in the yard doing something, or getting 
ready to do something, and I was very much 
38 



“I WAS VERY YOUNG ” 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


interested to know what it was. I really 
forgot all about the chicken I had come for, 
and went up quite near and sat in some young 
gooseberry-bushes to watch things. 

“Mr. Man and Mrs. Man and their little 
boy all seemed to be very busy. They 
brought some chairs out in the yard, and a 
table with a pitcher and some glasses — in 
case they were thirsty, Mrs. Man said, it 
being so warm — and then Mr. Man brought 
out a box of things, and Mrs. Man told him 
to set it some distance off, to avoid accidents, 
so he set it just over by the gooseberry- 
bushes, quite close to me. I didn’t know 
what Mrs. Man meant then by avoiding 
accidents, but I did later. 

“I wanted ever so much to see what was 
in that box, and decided that presently, 
when they got interested in something else, 
I would step out and take a look at it. But 
they seemed to be interested in th$ box most 
of the time, and Mr. Man’s little boy kept 
asking every minute if it wasn’t dark enough 
now, and by and by Mr. Man said he 

40 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


thought it was, and came over to the box and 
took out something and carried it over where 
the others were, and seemed to be striking 
a match, and then, all at once, there was a 
great swishing sound, and a long tail of fire 
that went climbing to the sky, and when it 
got there suddenly seemed to blow up and 
send out six or seven of the most beautiful 
stars, while Mr. Man’s little boy jumped 
about and shouted, 1 Hurrah for the Fourth of 
July!’ Being pretty badly scared, I didn’t 
see just what became of those stars, but I 
suppose some of them are among those we see 
up there now, though perhaps some of them 
didn’t stick, but turned into falling stars, 
then, or later on. 

“Well, Mr. Man and his little boy kept 
right at work making the stars, as hard as 
they could, and I had a very good time, 
while it lasted. I came out of the gooseberry- 
bushes where I could see well, and every time 
they sent up a batch of stars on that tail of 
fire and Mr. Man’s boy shouted and danced, 
I danced about, too, and felt like shouting for 
41 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

the Fourth of July, which I decided must be 
star-making day every year. 

“But most of all I was anxious to see in 
that box. It seemed quite dark inside, and 
I couldn’t understand where all the fire that 
they made the stars out of could come from, 
and I don’t understand that part of it yet. 
I only know what happened next, which was 
this: 

“Mr. Man and his little boy seemed to 
get through with the first part of the star- 
making performance, for I heard Mr. Man 
say ‘ That’s all of those. Now we’ll have the 
Roman candles,’ which I judged must be 
some different stars, perhaps little ones, 
because Mr. Man’s boy said, ‘Oh, I can do 
those — I can do the Roman candles.’ Then 
Mr. Man came over and got something out of 
the box again, and I couldn’t stand it any 
longer, I was so curious; so when he had gone 
back I slipped over and peeked in. 

“It was light enough for my eyes, and I 
could make out a number of curious-shaped 
little packages still in the box — some round 

42 


% 



“ BUT MOST OF ALL I WAS ANXIOUS TO SEE IN THAT 

BOX ” 


/ 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


and long, some round and short, and some 
flat like wheels or six-cornered, and some 
coiled around and around like little snails, 
and nothing among them like anything I 
had ever seen before. I couldn’t imagine 
how those things could make stars, and was 
just about to take out one and examine it 
when there was a bright light and the Roman 
candles began to work and send up beautiful 
round stars right above our heads, first one 
way and then another, lighting up everything 
quite plainly. Just then Mr. Man’s little 
boy must have looked in my direction, for 
he shouted right out, ‘Oh, look! there’s a 
young coon!’ and, without stopping to think, 
being so young himself, he aimed his Roman 
candle in my direction, and shot those stars 
straight at me. One big yellow one just 
grazed my left ear and scared me so I 
couldn’t move at first. Then a big red one 
singed my back fur, and I commenced to 
dodge and get in motion. And just then a 
big blue star-ball came straight toward me. 
I thought I was gone then, but I wasn’t. 



MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


It didn’t hit me; it fell short and went in 
the box. 

“Well, there must have been ever so many 
of the best stars wasted that night. Before 
I could get fairly turned around those curious 
things I had seen in there began to go off. 
You never heard such a popping and fizzing 
and spluttering and banging, and you never 
could imagine such a flashing and flaming 
and wriggling of dangerous materials as that 
blue star-ball started. 

“Of course I didn’t stay right there to 
enjoy it. About the first pop that came from 
that star-box I was headed in the other 
direction and up a tree, where I could get a 
good view and be out of range. It was most 
exciting. Every minute something new came 
out of that box — fiery snake things, and 
whirlers, and all sorts of fancy stuff, and 
things like bouquets of flowers, which I 
suppose would have been up there in the sky 
now for us to look at, if they had’nt been 
wasted so recklessly; and Mr. Man and his 
family all came running with pails of water, 
46 



•% 


4 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


but were afraid to get near enough to put it 
on, until the star-stuff was nearly used up; 
and just then I noticed a scared chicken on 
the limb next mine, so I took it and went 
home, though it wasn’t a very good one, 
being picked out in that careless way. 

“ I told my folks about seeing Mr. Man and 
his folks making the stars, but they didn’t 
think much of my story. When I showed 
them the singed place on my back they said 
that I had probably been shot at, as I 
deserved to be for trying to borrow a chicken 
before Mr. Man had gone to bed, and that I 
had imagined or made up the rest. But I 
hadn’t, for it all happened just as I have been 
telling it now. I don’t know whether Mr. 
Man makes stars on the Fourth of July 
every year or not. I could have gone back 
to see if I had wanted to, but I didn’t want 
to. I saw him do it once, which was plenty; 
and if he hadn’t wasted a lot of his stuff we 
would have some finer stars than any I can 
see up there now.” 

Mr. Rabbit smoked thoughtfully a minute. 

48 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

Then he said: “That is certainly a very 
remarkable story, but I can’t believe that 
those were real stars that Mr. Man and his 
family were making. I think those must all 
have been just shooting stars, and meteors, 
and comets and such things, that are always 
flying about and changing. There is a 
story in my family that accounts for the 
other stars, and seems more probable, be- 
cause it happened a very long time ago, when 
’most anything could be true and when all 
the first things began.” 

“Very likely,” said the ’Coon, “but what 
I saw was plenty true enough to suit me, 
while it lasted.” 







MR. RABBIT’S STAR STORY 


» 


MR. RABBIT’S STAR STORY 


JACK RABBIT TELLS OF HIS GRANDPAW’s 
LONG LADDER THAT TOUCHED THE SKY 

HIS is the story that Jack Rabbit told 



1 to the Hollow Tree people when they 
sat together on the edge of the world, and 
hung their feet over the Big Nowhere and 
looked at the stars. 

“Well,” he said, “you may remember my 
telling you once about the moon being a 
world, and how, a long time ago, my folks 
used to live there, and all slid off one day, 
when the moon tipped up on its edge, and 
they were not holding on.” 

Mr. ’Possum said that he remembered 
quite well, and that Mr. Rabbit’s story had 
seemed to explain everything — at the time. 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


Of course, he said, an explanation couldn’t 
be expected to last forever, and if Mr. 
Rabbit would like to make a new one that 
would be even better, they would be glad to 
hear it, because Mr. Rabbit’s stories were 
always interesting, even when doubtful, and 
besides — 

Mr. Rabbit didn’t wait for Mr. ’Possum to 
get done. He said it was one of those 
conversations that could be finished any 
time and didn’t need any audience. Perhaps 
Mr. ’Possum wouldn’t mind waiting, he 
said, until the others had told their stories 
and gone home. Then he went right on to 
tell his story, like this: 

“The sky is also a world — as big a world 
as this is, with a wide, rounding floor that 
looks blue in the daytime and nearly black 
at night, when the sun is gone. The sky 
country is really kind of an up-stairs world, 
and the stars are small windows, or peep- 
holes, in the big, blue floor, for the people 
up there to look down through when they 
want to see what is going on below. Those 

54 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

little windows are always there, day and 
night, though you can’t see them in the day- 
time, because then the sun is shining here 
and not up there. In the evening, when it 
quits shining here, it goes up there, and 
then, of course, all the star windows are lit 
up, just like a window in the Hollow Tree at 
night. I will tell you a story of the sky 
country and its star windows, which explains 
everything. It has come down in our family 
ever since my folks lived in the moon, which 
was a great many great-grandfathers back, 
and is true, accordingly. 

“The moon, where we used to live, is a 
pretty small world, compared with the sky 
world — being about like a pea compared 
with a bread-bowl— and our people used to 
have such big families that if they hadn’t 
found some place for them to go they would 
have got so thick that the moon wouldn’t 
have begun to hold them. 

“Well, the moon is pretty close to the 
sky — not as close as you would think to 
look at it, for it seems right against it; it is 
55 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


really about a mile off — a mile and ten feet, 
exactly, I believe, or at least that was the 
length of my eighty-second great-grand- 
father’s ladder, though, of course, that had 
to slant some. My grandparent built that 
ladder when our folks got together and 
decided that we were getting too thick and 
something must be done about it. My 
ancestor said the sky was just the thing. He 
had never been there, but he had a beautiful 
imagination, and he told them all about the 
lovely rivers and meadows and fields of 
clover they would find there, and said he 
would invent a way to get there for all who 
wanted to go. 

“ Everybody that heard my ancestor went 
home and told what a grand place the sky 
was, and made it even better than he had 
said; and some went around getting other 
crowds together and telling them about it, 
and went on improving the scenery until 
nobody had ever dreamed before of such a 
wonderful place as that sky-country, and it 
looked as if all the people in the moon were 
56 



“TOLD WHAT A GRAND PLACE THE SKY WAS ” 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


just waiting to climb Grandpaw’s ladder as 
soon as it was done. 

“It took my ancestor a good while to make 
it. The first time he got it done it was too 
short. When he sent out bids to the raising, 
and a lot of the neighbors came over to help, 
and ever so many folks were there with their 
things, ready to go up, they found it wouldn’t 
touch by a good deal, and Grandpaw had to 
splice on about a quarter of a mile more. 
Then they had another raising, and when 
they got the ladder up and well propped, 
Grandpaw went up first to saw out a door 
to get in by. 

“Now Grandpaw was smart. He knew 
that there are a lot of people never satisfied 
with anything, and who always want to 
come back, no matter how fine the place is. 
So he sawed out a little double trap, opening 
in the center, just big enough for single file, 
and put on strong spring hinges that open 
only one way — the way in, of course — with 
no handholds on the above side. Then he 
took a little look inside himself, and came 

58 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


back down the ladder, and the procession 
started. 

“No such a collection of our family was 
ever seen before or since. Everybody in the 
moon had heard about that wonderful new 
country where there was lots of room and 
everything free, and they wanted to see it. 
They piled up that ladder in a steady stream 
for nearly a month before the line began to 
thin out, and it was a great help to the space 
on the moon. Of course none of them could 
come back to tell how it was there, or draw 
back once he got started through Grandpaw’s 
spring-closing, one-way door. One long, 
thin rabbit called Snoop, who was always 
trying to see everything in advance, tried to 
jerk back after he got his head through, but 
Grandpaw’s door caught him just back of 
the ears, and he decided to go on in. I 
don’t know what my eighty-second great- 
grandfather saw when he took that first 
look. He didn’t say. Grandpaw didn’t 
join the sky procession himself, because he 
said he had to keep his ladder in repair. I 

59 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

forgot to say that he charged for each one 
that went up, and prospered a good deal, 
at first. When the crowd thinned out he 
sent several different ones around to explain 
what a grand place the sky was, and all about 
his ladder. My ancestor was a great hand 
to keep things moving. 

“Well, by and by our folks who had 
stayed on the moon began to notice bright 
lights in the sky at night, and wondered what 
they were, and one night when business 
wasn’t very good Grandpaw went about 
two-thirds of the way up his ladder to see. 
When he came back he said that those were 
windows of various sizes which the sky 
settlers were cutting through the floor so 
they could see what was going on back home. 
At first there were only a few scattering 
holes, but every night there were a lot more, 
until it looked as if those people up there put 
in all their time looking down at the place 
where they came from. Our folks used to 
listen to see if they wouldn’t call down 
something about how they liked it, but 
60 



“THEY PILED UP THAT LADDER 

STREAM ” 


IN A STEADY 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


nothing of that kind ever happened. 
Perhaps it was too far, or maybe they had 
made some law about it. Anyway, all that 
my people ever knew about those travelers 
was the windows they kept cutting, and 
those got so thick, by and by, that my ances- 
tor was worried for fear the floor would get 
weak and the sky-world fall to pieces and 
spoil his income. So he sent up word by 
some who were going that if that window- 
cutting didn’t stop he would take down his 
ladder and not let any more of their friends 
come. Very likely that scared them, for 
though the sky-floor must have got pretty 
weak, it didn’t come through, and you see it 
is there, with all the windows, that we call 
stars, in it yet. The ladder built by my 
eighty-second great-grandfather remained in 
our family and was still working up to the 
time the moon tipped and spilt all that was 
left down here, just as I told you before. I 
never heard what became of it after that. 

“ As for those windows, I suppose they are 
still in use, as those sky-people would want 
62 



GRANDPAW WENT ABOUT TWO-THIRDS OF THE 
WAY UP HIS LADDER, TO SEE ” 


o 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


to see what became of us. Those holes look 
pretty small, of course, from here, being so 
far away, and people got to calling them 
stars because they look like stars at this 
distance,’ though most of them would be 
round or square, I judge, if you could see 
them close. Some of them must have 
shutters, for sometimes there seem to be a 
great many more than others, especially on 
a very clear night, when I suppose those 
people up there have them all open. They 
are so thick then that I don’t wonder my 
ancestor grew worried about the floor. I 
found a leaf, once, from one of Mr. Man’s 
poetry books, and it said on it : 

The night has a thousand eyes, 

and I suppose that meant the stars, but it 
must have been written a long time ago, for 
there are a good many more than a thousand 
now; and there’s a verse in our family 
which says: 

A million windows in the sky 
Watch the nights and days go by. 

64 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

Which proves they have been there a long 
time and that they are really windows, and 
useful, and not mere ornaments, though they 
are certainly very pretty to look at, especially 
on a night like this and in such good 
company.” 

Then Mr. ’Possum said that he thought 
Mr. Rabbit’s story was a very good one and 
explained the stars fully as well, in some 
ways, as Mr. ’Coon’s story, though it was 
less exciting. He said he was sorry there 
was no story in his family to tell what the 
stars were, and asked Mr. Crow if there was 
anything of the kind in his family. 

Mr. Crow said that there was a story, but 
that it wasn’t exactly in his family — it was in 
him . Both Mr. ’Coon’s and Mr. Rabbit’s 
stories had been very good, he said, and no 
doubt true enough as far as they went, but 
that his story went farther, a good deal 
farther, especially in the direction of per- 
sonal experience, even than Mr. ’Coon’s. 
It had all been quite sad at the time, and 
he had never told it before to any one, but 
65 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

if they cared to hear it he would tell it 
now. 

Then the ’Coon and the ’Possum and Mr. 
Jack Rabbit said they would be glad to hear 
a story from Mr. Crow, especially to-night; 
and Mr. Crow said he must think a little to 
get the beginning straight, which he did, and 
was ready presently to start. 


MR. CROW’S STAR STORY 




t 






# 

f 







MR. CROW’S STAR STORY 


MR. CROW GIVES HIS ACCOUNT OF HOW THE 
STARS WERE MADE 

T HIS is the story that Mr. Crow told on 
the night that he and Mr. ’Coon and 
Jack Rabbit and Mr. ’Possum sat on the 
edge of the world and hung their feet over 
the Big Nowhere and looked at the stars. 

“Well,” said Mr. Crow, “I can tell you 
something about the stars that may surprise 
you. I made the stars myself — not all of 
them, of course, but a good many of them. 
No doubt a number of them were made in 
the way Jack Rabbit has explained, and 
others in the way that Mr. ’Coon saw 
himself, and told us about, but most of the 
bright stars, and where there are a number 

69 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


together, I can account for, because I made 
them myself, as I said — though I did not 
enjoy it. They came out of my head — that 
is, they were knocked out — not all at once, 
but at different times. I did not make them 
alone — I had help — my wife helped me; 
also my mother-in-law, who was visiting us. 
It was this way: 

“I was quite young when I married and I 
did not pick out the right person for a peace- 
ful home. Minerva, which was her name, 
had never been brought up to do anything 
but go about with her mother and get up 
meetings on one thing and another and talk 
to them as long as they would stand it, and 
then go home and talk to Minerva’s father, 
who was not very strong, and passed away 
at one such time. It was my turn after 
that. I came along just in time to take his 
place. 

“It was nice enough at first. I thought 
how smart Mother Crow and Minerva were, 
and was proud when I saw them get up those 
big meetings. You never saw such meetings 
70 



“ I ASKED MINERVA TO TELL ME IN A FEW SIMPLE 
WORDS WHAT SHE HAD BEEN TALKING 
ABOUT AT THE MEETING” 



MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


as those were. I’ve seen the trees in every 
direction black with our family, listening to 
Minerva and her mother talk. I don’t 
know what they said — I never could seem 
to get the run of it, and, besides, I had to 
slip home early and get the supper, so I 
never got to hear their closing remarks, 
which might have explained things. Once 
when I asked Minerva to tell me in a few 
simple words what she had been talking about 
at the meeting, it seemed to fret her, and 
she said I seemed to understand private 
cooking better than public questions, and 
had better stick to it; which I did, after that, 
and I didn’t go to the meetings at all. 
Minerva was not a cook herself, though her 
mother had been before she took to society 
work, and she told me some very good 
recipes. 

“It was trying to learn those recipes that 
started my work in the star-making line. 
She gave me a recipe for chicken-pie one 
morning before she and Minerva started out, 
and the last thing she said, just before she 

72 


r 



“SHE JUST WHEELED AND GAVE ME A CLIP” 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


left, was that it was only to have one crust. 
I had never made a pie that way. I always 
used two crusts — one above and one below, 
so when it came to that part this time, I 
put a lower crust in the pan, and then the 
chicken, and baked it just so, though I 
thought it would look much better with a 
top crust. When Mrs. Crow and Minerva 
came home, they were cross, and fussing a 
good deal at each other, because, for some 
reason, the meeting hadn’t gone well, and 
when they came in and Mother Crow saw 
the open pie on the table, she asked me what 
I meant by making such a looking thing as 
that. I told her I had put on only one crust, 
according to her orders, and I thought, 
myself, a top crust would make it look 
better. 

“Well, she didn’t say another word. She 
just wheeled and gave me a clip on the left 
ear, and right then I saw three stars, just as 
plain as anything, fly out of my head and 
start for the sky. I don’t know which ones 
they are, but they would be as big as any up 

74 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

there. When I got my balance I said that I 
could see that a pie made in that way was 
a mistake, though it would improve the 
looks of the sky; and Minerva and her 
mother both said I had gone crazy, and I had 
to dodge in two directions to keep from 
adding several more stars that same 
evening. 

“I made plenty of them after that. They 
kept me busy at it. Something had gone 
wrong with their meetings, and they took 
it out on me. From what they said to each 
other I judged that some other ladies were 
holding still bigger meetings; also that 
those ladies were a disgrace, and that 
something ought to be done to them. Then 
all the things they thought about doing to 
those rival creatures they did to me, and I 
was in the star business most of the time. I 
made big ones and I made little ones, 
according to how mad my folks were and the 
aim they took. Also groups of stars: Once 
Minerva cracked me with the soup-ladle, and 
I made the dipper. I knew they were real 
75 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


stars, because every clear night when I went 
out for a little peace I could see new ones, 
and I could recognize which were mine. 

“I don't know how many stars I made, nor 
what they all were now, but if I had kept on 
the sky would be running over by this time. 
I suppqse I should have gone on, too, if 
something hadn't happened to Minerva. 
One day she went with her mother to attend 
one of those meetings which those creatures 
were holding over in the Burnt Deadening 
where there was a lot of bare, dead trees, 
and Minerva and Mother Crow tried to 
break it up. 

“ I didn't recognize my mother-in-law when 
she came home. She could only see a little 
out of one eye and there wasn't a whole 
feather on her. Minerva didn't come at all. 
Her funeral was next day, and then, of course, 
I was a widower, though not yet entirely out 
of the star business. 

“Mrs. Crow gave up public life and 
started a boarding-house, as you may still 
remember, and I was with her a good while, 
76 


1 



“I DIDN’T RECOGNIZE MY MOTHER-IN-LAW” 



MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


and almost every day added a few stars to 
the firmament, as Mr. Dog calls it. Once 
she flung the milk-pitcher at my head, and 
when it hit and broke, it seemed to add 
some to the Milky Way. Several of those 
fancy designs up there I can remember 
making. They are all pretty enough to 
look at now, but I did not enjoy them much 
when I first saw them. I don’t care to make 
any more, and, besides, there are plenty 
already. Sometimes I seem to see a few 
new ones up there, and it makes me think 
that somebody else has gone into the business 
of making them, the same way I did. I hope 
not, for though it may be the best and 
quickest way, it is not the one I should ever 
pick for myself again.” 

Mr. Crow sighed and lit his pipe, and 
everybody looked up at the twinkling sky. 
And Mr. ’Possum said he could understand 
now why there were several different kinds 
of stars. They had been made in differ- 
ent ways. Mr. ’Coon had seen Mr. Man 
working at one or two kinds; Mr. Rabbit’s 
78 



MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


people had made another kind; and Mr. 
Crow had, perhaps, made several kinds. He 
said he had never heard anything so 
interesting in his life, or so reasonable. 


A DEEP WOODS WAR 







A DEEP WOODS WAR 


MR. ’COON TELLS A CURIOUS STORY OF LOVE 
AND BATTLE 

NCE upon a time Mr. Dog came over 



W to the Hollow Tree to spend the evening 
with the ’Coon and ’Possum and the Old 
Black Crow, and pretty soon other Deep 
Woods people dropped in, and everybody 
was passing the time of day and feeling 
comfortable and happy in the good society 
of those present. They talked about the 
weather, and how it seemed to be a dry 
spring, and Mr. Rabbit said his garden was 
suffering, and Mr. Turtle said he had never 
seen the Wide Blue Water so low at this 
season for a hundred and nine or ten years. 
He couldn’t remember just which it was, 


83 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


but it was the year that Father Storm Turtle, 
who lives up in the Big West Hills, and makes 
the thunder, was laid up with misery in his 
shoulder, and Mother Storm had to run the 
thunder -works and tend to sick folks, too. 
Most people, Mr. Turtle said, believed that 
good, loud thunder helps to shake the rain 
out of the clouds, and very likely it was so, 
for the next spring, when Father Storm got 
well, he gave them enough of it, and it rained 
so that the Wide Blue Water came up into 
the Big Deep Woods as far as the Hollow 
Tree, which wasn’t a Hollow Tree then, but 
a good, sound oak only about four hundred 
years old — his uncle Tom Turtle, who lived 
up by the Forks, having been just about that 
old himself when it came up as a sapling . 1 

When Mr. Turtle got through, none of the 
Hollow Tree people said anything at all, at 
first, for whenever Mr. Turtle mentioned how 
old he was, and the great ages of many of 
his family, it seemed to them too wonderful 

1 “Mr. Turtle’s Thunder Story ” in The Hollow Tree and Deep 
Woods Book. 


84 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


for words. But by and by Mr. Dog said that 
Mr. Turtle was very likely right about the 
thunder making the rain, for he had heard 
Mr. Man explain that the reason it was so 
dry this year was because there was a great 
war going on, on the other side of the world, 
with big guns roaring all day and night, and 
that the terrible jar and noise of those guns 
kept it raining there steadily, so there was no 
rain left for this side. Mr. Dog supposed 
that Father Storm Turtle could not get up a 
noise big enough to beat that war noise, and 
had about given up trying. 

Then Mr. Rabbit asked why Mr. Man’s 
people wanted to have war and fire those big 
guns at each other, which must be very 
dangerous and very apt to kill people, besides 
causing floods in one place and drought in 
another, which was bad for everybody 
concerned. 

Mr. Dog said Mr. Man himself didn’t 
know why all those Mr. Mans over there 
wanted to have a war. Mr. Dog had heard 
Mr. Man say that those people over there 

85 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


didn't know themselves what it was all about, 
and that they were killing each other every 
day by the thousand with those big guns, 
and losing all their property, for no reason 
at all that anybody could think of, except, 
perhaps, to take each other's country, which 
probably wouldn't be worth much now, 
whoever got it. Mr. Dog said that, of course, 
Mr. Man's people were very smart in many 
ways, but that as nearly as he could find out 
they had always been very silly about wars, 
and had fought many of them, for no good 
reason, instead of being wise like the Deep 
Woods people, who only fight to get some- 
thing to eat, or sometimes when there are 
rivals at a time of courtship. Mr. Dog said 
his own people were more like Mr. Man’s, 
probably from association, and that more 
than once at Great Corners he had been set 
upon by a perfectly strange Mr. Dog, without 
cause; but even then it was generally a 
single-handed affair and soon over, except 
once, when he believed every Mr. Dog in 
Great Corners took a hand for a few minutes, 
86 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

though nobody was hurt and everybody 
seemed to feel better for the exercise. 

Mr. Dog went on to say that he seldom 
enjoyed these occasions, and lately had 
stayed in Mr. Man’s car while they were at 
Great Corners and talked earnestly to any 
strange dog that came around looking for war. 

Then Mr. ’Coon, who hadn’t said a word 
so far, but had just been smoking and 
thinking, seemed to wake up out of deep 
reflection, and said: 

“I know something about war. I thought 
of making one, once, and afterwards I 
saw one.” 

Then everybody looked at Mr. ’Coon, who 
is usually rather quiet, and asked him to 
please tell about those wars — nothing could 
be more interesting, just now, than to hear 
about them. 

So Mr. ’Coon filled his pipe up fresh, and 
told them. 

“Well,” he said, “there isn’t much to tell 
about the first one. I was quite young, and 
there was a family lived not far from us who 
87 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

had a young Miss ’Coon that I thought I 
would like to set up housekeeping with, and 
when I mentioned it she was a good deal in 
the notion, too. Everything seemed to be 
going along quite well until, one day, another 
young Mr. ’Coon came along and saw Violet 
— that was her name — and he had the same 
plan that I had. He belonged to that 
family over near the Jagged Bluffs — a 
common, oversized lot, with no style to speak 
of. I had never seen him, myself, when I 
first heard about his coming to call on her, 
and made up my mind I would fight him the 
first time we met. Then I thought I had 
better get a look at him and study his weak 
points, without him seeing me; so I hid in 
the bushes one afternoon, near Violet’s 
house, to watch him pass. When, pretty 
soon, he came along and I saw the curious 
shape and size of him, I decided that Violet 
was not worthy of me. He was very wide 
forward, and his hind legs were set in a 
peculiar way. I can’t imagine what Violet 
could see in him.” 


88 



“I CAN’T IMAGINE WHAT VIOLET COULD SEE IN 
HIM” 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


Mr. ’Coon sighed and took time to fill 
his pipe before he went on. 

“That was the war I thought of making,” 
he went on, after a minute or two, “and that 
was all there was of it. I took a walk over 
to see a good friend of mine, in those days, 
a young Mr. Bear named Redfield, generally 
called Cousin Redfield, or Reddie. Mr. 
Crow once told us about some of his little- 
boy adventures, as you may remember. 
Well, I found Cousin Redfield and told him 
what had happened, and he said he would 
go with me and help me fight that spread- 
shouldered ruffian, and asked me what were 
his weak points. I said I hadn’t noticed any, 
and we decided that we wouldn’t bother 
with him, and went to visit a honey-tree 
that Cousin Redfield had found and thought 
of robbing, some night. I said I didn’t 
think it was right to rob the bees of their 
honey, but that we would go and look at it, 
to take my mind from less pleasant things. 

“So we walked a good ways until we came 
to it, and it was there that I saw the other 

90 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


war that I mentioned. It seems there were 
several swarms of bees in that tree, it being 
quite a big one with a number of hollow 
limbs. Every year when the young bees had 
made new swarms they had moved into 
vacant limbs, until, I suppose, the tree had 
become quite full and pretty crowded. I 
don’t know what had started the trouble, but 
there was a good deal of it going on when we 
got there. Perhaps some strong new or old 
swarm was trying to drive out a weak one 
and take its place. Anyway, there were 
about a million of those bees buzzing and 
whirling about outside, and you could smell 
that they were mad, and you could see that 
they were fighting, for there were dead ones 
on the ground, and they were pattering down 
on the leaves quite fast. Cousin Redfield 
and I first thought it was sprinkling, until 
we saw that the falling drops were dead 
bees. 

“But that was nothing to what happened 
a few minutes later. For all those other 
swarms, one after another, pretty soon began 
91 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


to pour out from the different holes in the 
limbs and body of the tree, and join in the 
war, until the air around that tree was just 
black with fighting bees, and the dead ones 
were coming down so thick that I would not 
have cared to stand under it without Mr. 
Man’s umbrella. 

“ Cousin Redfield and I got off a little ways 
to watch it. Cousin Redfield said that 
perhaps we ought to interfere, but I said that 
it wasn’t our war, and that it would be better 
to wait and see what we could do when it 
was over. 

“So we got in a good safe place and looked 
on, and I never thought anything could be 
like it. I don’t know how those bees could 
decide which side they were on, or what they 
were fighting about, or which side was 
which. They must have been all relatives 
once, and would be all cousins, or something, 
now. They all looked exactly alike to Cousin 
Redfield and me, and pretty soon they got 
very thick on the ground, like a kind of 
black moss or something, that was spreading 

92 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

and piling up deeper every minute and doing 
nobody any good, and not deciding anything, 
that we could see. Cousin Redfield and I 
made up our minds that they had all gone 
crazy. 

“I don’t know how many millions of those 
bees there were, but they made a noise like 
Mr. Man’s automobile when it is running 
at high speed, and that mad-bee smell was 
so strong that it seemed to Cousin Redfield 
and me almost dangerous to stay there. So 
we got a little farther away, for we didn’t 
know but that all those bees might suddenly 
decide to quit fighting one another and make 
a rush at us. But that didn’t happen. They 
were too busy with their war. They kept 
on pouring out of the tree until there were 
no more left to come, and that black cloud 
whizzed and stung and smelled, and the 
black moss on the ground kept growing and 
spreading until we could see that the live 
ones were thinning out. By and by there 
were more bees on the ground than there 
were in the air, and we thought they would 
93 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

quit then and go to work, but they kept right 
on until they were more than shoe-top deep 
on the ground and just about ordinarily 
thick in the air, and still fighting. 

11 1 don’t know how long it was that Cousin 
Redfield and I stood there watching those 
bees kill one another, but I know by sunset 
there were not more than a dozen or two 
left, and they were roosting about on the 
limbs and leaves, worn out or crippled, and 
not able to fight any more. 

“Then Cousin Redfield said he thought it 
was time for us to interfere and see what 
could be done, so we each broke off a little 
birch brush and swept a path through that 
black bee moss, and looked into the hole at 
the bottom of the tree, but couldn’t hear 
anything. So we climbed up a little ways 
and pretty soon came to honey — bushels of 
it. There were no bees there except a few 
fat, lazy ones that couldn’t sting, and were 
probably kings or queens or something, and 
we didn’t mind them. We ate all the honey 
we could, and went home, and next morning 
94 





“ ALL DAY LONG CARRIED HONEY OUT OF THE BEE- 

TREE” 


7 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

got baskets and all day long carried honey 
out of the bee-tree and had enough to last 
our families for a whole year, the best honey 
I ever saw in the Big Deep Woods, and the 
most I ever expect to see. 

“We didn’t get it quite all, though, for 
the second morning when we came back we 
found the tree occupied. Violet and that 
big, rough creature from the Jagged Bluffs 
had found it, and started housekeeping there, 
with enough honey to last them at least a 
month. I heard later they called it their 
honeymoon, and I believe people sometimes 
call the first few weeks of being married by 
that name still. 

“Cousin Redfield said he would help me 
drive them out, if I said so; but I said no, 
that place had seen war enough, and with 
all the honey we had at home I could get 
along without the present contents of the 
tree, so we went away. I said that something 
would probably happen to those two for the 
way they had done, and I was right. For 
about six weeks later the honey smell of that 
96 


r 


t 



« VIOLET AND THAT BIG CREATURE HAD STARTED 

HOUSEKEEPING ” 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


tree brought another big, new, strong swarm 
of bees to settle there, and they turned Violet 
and her thick-necked partner out, in about 
two minutes, and took full possession. 
Cousin Redfield Bear and I used to walk over 
that way every day, to observe things, and 
we happened along just as it was going on. 
That fellow’s wide build didn’t help him any 
against bees. Violet came out first, pawing 
her nose with one hand and knocking bees 
with the other. He stayed to fight a little, 
but directly he rolled out, scratching and 
pawing, and five minutes later his own mother 
wouldn’t have known him, he was so swelled. 
Violet looked at him, and then a*t me and 
Cousin Redfield laughing at him, and I 
think would have deserted him for me, then; 
but Violet herself had one eye closed, and her 
nose was the shape and size of a reversed 
turnip. I saw then that I had never truly 
loved her and had been wise to give her up. 
They left the country soon afterwards and 
I don’t know what became of them. That 
honey-tree blew down one winter night 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


about a year after, and then Cousin Redfield 
and I went back and got some more honey, 
but not as much as we did after the great 
war.” 

The Hollow Tree people hadn’t said a 
word during Mr. ’Coon’s story, but when he 
had finished Mr. Dog said so far as he could 
see there was just about as much sense in 
that war as there was in the one going on 
over on the other side of the world, and that 
the war over there would very likely end in 
about the same way. 

But Mr. ’Possum said that Mr. ’Coon’s 
war was a good deal better than Mr. Man’s, 
because, being so soon over, nothing but 
those silly fighting bees was wasted; and for 
Mr. ’Coon and Cousin Redfield Bear to have 
stayed out of it until there was no more 
fighting, and then go in and carry off a wagon- 
load of honey, was probably the smartest 
thing they had ever done in their lives. 





MR. ’POSSUM’S SICK SPELL 







MR. ’POSSUM’S SICK SPELL 


MR. ’POSSUM HAS A NIGHT ADVENTURE WHICH 
CAUSES EXCITEMENT 

NCE upon a time, said the Story Teller, 



V J something very sad nearly happened in 

the Hollow Tree. It was Mr. ’Possum’s 
turn, one night, to go out and borrow a 
chicken from Mr. Man’s roost, and coming 
home he fell into an old well and lost his 
chicken. He nearly lost himself, too, for 
the water was icy cold and Mr. ’Possum 
thought he would freeze to death before he 
could climb out, because the rocks were 
slippery and he fell back several times. 

As it was, he got home almost dead, and 
next morning was sicker than he had ever 
been before in his life. He had pains in 


103 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


his chest and other places, and was all 
stuffed up in his throat and very scared. 
The ’Coon and the Crow who lived in the 
Hollow Tree with him were scared, too. 
They put him to bed in the big room down- 
stairs, and said they thought they ought to 
send for somebody, and Mr. Crow said that 
Mr. Owl was a good hand with sick folks, 
because he looked so wise and didn’t say 
much, which always made the patient think 
he knew something. 

So Mr. Crow hurried over and brought 
Mr. Owl, who put on his glasses and looked 
at Mr. ’Possum’s tongue, and felt of his 
pulse, and listened to his breathing, and 
said that the cold water seemed to have 
struck in and that the only thing to do was 
for Mr. ’Possum to stay in bed and drink hot 
herb tea and not eat anything, which was a 
very sad prescription for Mr. ’Possum, 
because he hated herb tea and was very 
partial to eating. He groaned when he 
heard it and said he didn’t suppose he’d 
ever live to enjoy himself again, and that he 

104 



MR. OWL LOOKED AT HIS TONGUE AND FELT HIS 
PULSE 






MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


might just as well have stayed in the well 
with the chicken, which was a great loss 
and doing no good to anybody. Then Mr. 
Owl went away, and told the Crow outside 
that Mr. ’Possum was a very sick man, and 
that at his time of life and in his state of 
flesh his trouble might go hard with him. 

So Mr. Crow went back into the kitchen 
and made up a lot of herb tea and kept it 
hot on the stove, and Mr. ’Coon sat by 
Mr. ’Possum’s bed and made him drink it 
almost constantly, which Mr. ’Possum said 
might cure him if he didn’t die of it before 
the curing commenced. 

He said if he just had that chicken, made 
up with a good platter of dumplings, he 
believed it would do him more good than 
anything, and he begged the ’Coon to go 
and fish it out, or to catch another one, and 
try it on him, and then if he did die he would 
at least have fewer regrets. 

But the Crow and the ’Coon said they must 
do as Mr. Owl ordered, unless Mr. ’Possum 
wanted to change doctors, which was not a 
106 



A LITTLE WHILE HE HAD THIS FINE, FAT 
CHICKEN 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


good plan until the case became hopeless, 
and that would probably not be before some 
time in the night. Mr. ’Coon said, though, 
there was no reason why that nice chicken 
should be wasted, and as it would still be 
fresh, he would rig up a hook and line and 
see if he couldn’t save it. So he got out his 
fishing things and made a grab hook and left 
Mr. Crow to sit by Mr. ’Possum until he 
came back. He could follow Mr. ’Possum’s 
track to the place, and in a little while he 
had the fine, fat chicken, and came home with 
it and showed it to the patient, who had a~ 
sinking spell when he looked at it, and turned 
his face to the wall and said he seemed to 
have lived in vain. 

Mr. Crow, who always did the cooking, 
said he’d better put the chicken on right 
away, under the circumstances, and then he 
remembered a bottle of medicine he had 
once seen sitting on Mr. Man’s window-sill 
outside, and he said while the chicken was 
cooking he’d just step over and get it, as it 
might do the patient good, and it didn’t 
108 




< 



MR. CROW SAID IF MR. ’POSSUM WAS STILL WITH 
THEM NEXT MORNING THEY WOULD SEND 
FOR ANOTHER DOCTOR 


MS 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


seem as if anything now could do him any 
harm. 

So the Crow dressed the nice chicken and 
put it in the pot with the dumplings, and 
while Mr. ’Coon dosed Mr. ’Possum with the 
hot herb tea Mr. Crow slipped over to 
Mr. Man’s house and watched a good 
chance when the folks were at dinner, and 
got the bottle and came back with it and 
found Mr. ’Possum taking a nap and the 
’Coon setting the table; for the dinner was 
about done and there was a delicious smell 
of dumplings and chicken, which made Mr. 
’Possum begin talking in his sleep about 
starving to death in the midst of plenty. 
Then he woke up and seemed to suffer a 
good deal, and the Crow gave him a dose of 
Mr. Man’s medicine, and said that if Mr. 
’Possum was still with them next morning 
they’d send for another doctor. 

Mr. ’Possum took the medicine and choked 
on it, and when he could speak said he 
wouldn’t be with them. He could tell by 
his feelings, he said, that he would never get 
no 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


through this day of torture, and he wanted 
to say some last words. Then he said that 
he wanted the ’Coon to have his Sunday suit, 
which was getting a little tight for him and 
would just about fit Mr. ’Coon, and that he 
wanted the Crow to have his pipe and toilet 
articles, to remember him by. He said he 
had tried to do well by them since they had 
all lived together in the Hollow Tree, and he 
supposed it would be hard for them to get 
along without him, but that they would have 
to do the best they could. Then he guessed 
he’d try to sleep a little, and closed his eyes. 
Mr. ’Coon looked at Mr. Crow and shook 
his head, and they didn’t feel like sitting 
down to dinner right away, and pretty soon 
when they thought Mr. ’Possum was asleep 
they slipped softly up to his room to see how 
sad it would seem without him. 

Well, they had only been gone a minute 
when Mr. ’Possum woke up, for the smell 
of that chicken and dumpling coming in 
from Mr. Crow’s kitchen was too much for 
him. When he opened his eyes and found 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


that Mr. ’Coon and Mr. Crow were not 
there, and that he felt a little better — perhaps 
because of Mr. Man’s medicine — he thought 
he might as well step out and take one last 
look at chicken and dumpling, anyway. 

It was quite warm, but, being all in a sweat, 
he put the bed-sheet around him to protect 
him from the draughts and went out to the 
stove and looked into the pot, and when he 
saw how good it looked he thought he might 
as well taste of it to see if it was done. So 
he did, and it tasted so good and seemed so 
done that he got out a little piece of dumpling 
on a fork, and blew on it to cool it, and ate 
it, and then another piece, and then the 
whole dumpling, which he sopped around in 
the gravy after each bite. Then when the 
dumpling was gone he fished up a chicken 
leg and ate that, and then a wing, and then 
the gizzard, and felt better all the time, and 
pretty soon poured out a cup of coffee and 
drank that, all before he remembered that he 
was sick abed and not expected to recover. 
Then he happened to think, and started back 
112 



WHEN THE DUMPLING WAS GONE HE FISHED UP 
A LEG AND ATE THAT 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


to bed, but on the way there he heard Mr. 
'Coon and Mr. Crow talking softly in his 
room and he forgot again that he was so 
sick and went up to see about it. 

Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Crow had been quite 
busy up in Mr. 'Possum's room. They 
had looked at all the things, and Mr. Crow 
remarked that there seemed to be a good 
many which Mr. 'Possum had not mentioned, 
and which they could divide afterward. 
Then he picked up Mr. 'Possum's pipe and 
tried it to see if it would draw well, as he had 
noticed, he said, that Mr. 'Possum sometimes 
had trouble with it, and the 'Coon went over 
to the closet and looked at Mr. 'Possum's 
Sunday suit, and pretty soon got it out and 
tried on the coat, which wouldn't need a 
thing done to it to make it fit exactly. He 
said he hoped Mr. 'Possum was resting well, 
after the medicine, which he supposed was 
something to make him sleep, as he had 
seemed drowsy so soon after taking it. He 
said it would be sad, of course, though it 
might seem almost a blessing, if Mr. 'Possum 

114 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


should pass away in his sleep, without 
knowing it, and he hoped Mr. ’Possum would 
rest in peace and not come back to distress 
people, as one of Mr. ’Coon’s own ancestors 
had done, a good while ago. Mr. ’Coon said 
his mother used to tell them about it when 
she wanted to keep them at home nights, 
though he didn’t really believe in such 
things much, any more, and he didn’t think 
Mr. ’Possum would be apt to do it, anyway, 
because he was always quite a hand to rest 
well. Of course, any one was likely to think 
of such things, he said, and get a little 
nervous, especially at a time like this — and 
just then Mr. ’Coon looked toward the door 
that led down to the big room, and Mr. Crow 
he looked toward that door, too, and Mr. 
’Coon gave a great jump, and said: 

“Oh, my goodness!” and fell back over 
Mr. ’Possum’s trunk. 

And Mr. Crow he gave a great jump, too, 
and said: 

“Oh, my gracious!” and fell back over 
Mr. ’Possum’s chair. 

115 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


For there in the door stood a figure 
shrouded all in white, all except the head, 
which was Mr. 'Possum's, though very 
solemn, its eyes looking straight at Mr. 
'Coon, who still had on Mr. 'Possum's coat, 
though he was doing his best to get it off, 
and at Mr. Crow, who still had Mr. 'Possum's 
pipe, though he was trying every way to 
hide it, and both of them were scrabbling 
around on the floor and saying, “Oh, Mr. 
'Possum, go away — please go away, 
Mr. 'Possum — we always loved you, Mr. 
'Possunr — we can prove it." 

But Mr. 'Possum looked straight at Mr. 
'Coon, and said in a deep voice: 

“What were you doing with my Sunday 
coat on?" \ 

And Mr. 'Coon tried to say something, 
but only made a few weak noises. 

And Mr. 'Possum looked at Mr. Crow and 
said: 

“What were you doing with my pipe?" 

And a little sweat broke out on Mr. Crow's 
bill, and he opened his mouth as if he were 
116 


WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SUNDAY COAT 
ON?” 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 

going to say something, but couldn't make 
a sound. 

Then Mr. 'Possum said, in a slow voice, 
so deep that it seemed To come from down 
in the ground: 

“Give me my things /" 

And Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Crow said, 
very shaky: 

“Oh y-yes, Mr. 'Possum, w-we meant to, 
a-all the t-time." 

And they tried to get up, but were so 
scared and weak they couldn't, and all at 
once Mr. 'Possum gave a great big laugh and 
threw off his sheet and sat down on a stool, 
and rocked and laughed, and Mr. 'Coon and 
Mr. Crow realized then that it was Mr. 
'Possum himself, and not just his appear- 
ance, as they had thought. Then they 
sat up, and pretty soon began to laugh, 
too, though not very gaily at first, but 
feeling more cheerful every minute, because 
Mr. 'Possum himself seemed to enjoy it so 
much. 

Then Mr. 'Possum told them about every- 
118 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


thing, and how Mr. Man’s medicine must 
have made him well, for all his pains and 
sorrows had left him, and he invited them 
down to help finish up the chicken which 
had cost him so much suffering. 

So then they all went down to the big 
room and the Crow brought in the big platter 
of dumplings, and a pan of biscuits and some 
molasses, and a pot of coffee, and they all 
sat down and celebrated Mr. ’Possum’s 
recovery. And when they were through, and 
everything was put away, they smoked, 
and Mr. ’Possum said he was glad he was 
there to use his property a little more, and 
that probably his coat would fit him again 
now, as his sickness had caused him to lose 
flesh. He said that Mr. Man’s medicine was 
certainly wonderful; but just then Mr. 
Rabbit dropped in, and when they told him 
about it, he said of course the medicine 
might have had some effect, but that the 
dumplings and chicken caused the real cure. 
He said there was an old adage to prove that 
— one that his thirty-fifth great-grandfather 
119 


MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH 


had made for just such a case of this kind. 
This, Mr. Rabbit said, was the adage: 

“If you want to live forever 
Stuff a cold and starve a fever.” 

Mr. ’Possum’s trouble had come from 
catching cold, he said, so the dumplings 
were probably just what he needed. Then 
Mr. Owl dropped in to see how his patient 
was, and when he saw him sitting up, and 
smoking, and well, he said it was wonderful 
how his treatment had worked, and the 
Hollow Tree people didn’t tell him any 
different, for they didn’t like to hurt Mr. 
Owl’s feelings. 


THE END 













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